The Fall
by The Darkest Faerie
Summary: What happens when a new girl comes to school with the gang? M for safety. Reposted and revised. R&R, please.


Disclaimer: Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. If I owned it, I'd be a rather rich girl and a much better drawer. BUT the italicized writing is one of my poems, titled The Fall. That work belongs to me. No touchy, please.

Note: This is a rewritten and revised version of the original. Thanks goes to my beta, FrogLady!

_There once was a teen._

_Quite normal, she'd seemed._

Kagome Higurashi, now age eighteen, had disliked the prospect of living since she first saw that preppy little bitch Kikyo in her high school. Kagome was the one that was supposed to have claim to Inuyasha, not Kikyo. But, Kikyo was soon taken into the 'popular' crowd without a second thought. Kagome wondered why, but it was a little obvious without too much thinking. Kagome had friends, lots of them. They would be easier to manipulate and tease if there was a look-alike. Kikyou immediately had her father call a plastic surgeon to make her look like Kagome Higurashi.

_Truly she was a loner._

_And indeed rather somber._

After Kikyou came to the school, Sango, Miroku, Inuyasha, Shippou, and even Kouga, the man that was most in love with her, turned away from her. Miroku, Inuyasha, Shippou, and Kouga had been captivated by Kikyo's 'beauty'. That is, if beauty is indeed what it could be called. Sango was with her because she loved Miroku, and she had to keep that hentai kid from running after Kikyou with his trousers about his ankles.

_Quickly she was passed each day_

_Not a single glance coming her way._

Kikyou did indeed look quite a bit like Kagome. But, with close scrutiny, it was obvious she'd had work done to make her look like Kagome. There was a little scar visible by her nose to show the work. And she dressed a lot more scantily, revealing the scars on her once non-existent chest. Obviously money did buy happiness; Kikyou had bountiful amounts of both.

_Her heart's true desire_

_Was never inquired_

Kagome was now alone. True enough she'd been a bit of a loner before, but now her circle of friends was gone due to a popular bitch that decided that Kagome would be the one to suffer. It didn't make sense to her why she was picked, though. She was a nerdy little gothic chic. Her raven hair had blood red streaks through it, and she didn't leave home without wearing the black clothing she'd come to love. Her family wasn't poor, but they weren't exactly rich either. She was...average. That's how she saw herself, and she was certain that the world saw her like that, too.

Kikyo, however, came from a very wealthy family. Her usual outfit consisted of a low cut and slutty tank top with a very scantily cut mini skirt and very fancy dress shoes. It was always best for Miss Mikotashi. If Kikyou didn't get her way, hell was sure to rise from the ground and unleash fury on whoever it was that held back what she wanted. Kagome wondered if Kikyou wasn't the devil herself.

_She now sat towards the back in class,_

_That way glances for her would pass._

Kagome now became one of the little 'silent' people in school. She shrunk down in class and stopped giving answers when called on. Even her grades started to suffer.

She was sinking down into depression's pits of aubergine dreams and midnight wishes. She was now playing at Kikyou's level; she got poor grades, she was a smart-ass, and she didn't even bother with going to school occasionally. That, or she'd skip periods of class and wander about the halls.

Kikyou didn't even usually show up for school. But, when she did, every boy in the school was wrapped around her finger with a simple 'Hey there, big boy' glance. She enjoyed the teasing she gave. She liked being in control. She was the sadistic puppet master that tormented Kagome into being her masochist. She loved it. She loved having her way and letting others hate her.

_Poetry happened to be her spark,_

_But, alas, nobody would hark._

Writing had really been Kagome's spark ever since she'd won the poetry contest back when she was in the third grade. But now, nobody had anything to say about the writing she'd once been so praised on. Without anyone to talk to, her depression worsened. Her poetry turned into something that even the great Edgar Allan Poe, would cringe away from the writing and call it 'depressing'. But, to Kagome, it was something to do in her spare time. To Kagome, it was a way of crying when she ran out of tears.

_So once more she sat alone,_

_Pondering the unknown._

Kagome, without her friends, had turned inward and tried to hide from it all. And now her absences and tardies were piling up each and every day. Frankly, she didn't see the point in trying to get her friends with that 'clone' of her running around the school. Nobody liked her anymore. Nobody seemed to want to talk to her; her grandfather was being male and consistently missing the point, her mother was frustrated to the point where she wouldn't listen to Kagome, and Souta just whined about how scary she was as a goth. She started resenting them as much as that egotistical, overbearing, insensitive, moronic copy of her that ran about.

_The others had social lives,_

_Whilst she often stayed inside._

Kagome's grades finally suffered to the point where she just decided to get herself expelled. She brought a gun to school and that easily did the trick. She walked back home, after her mother had bailed her out of jail, without a care as she grabbed the small amount of money she'd managed to save up over the years. She started renting an apartment and stayed secluded, barely leaving for anything. The only things that drew her to society were food, clothing and books.

_Her love of books only grew,_

_Until every library book she knew._

The only time Kagome decided to leave the house, without necessity calling, was to walk across the street to the library. She'd sit alone and read without stopping. She'd even finished Gone With The Wind in three hours and re-read it again until she knew every single part of the book from memory. It wasn't but a month before every book in the library was one she could recall without stopping to think about the sentences. She now stayed locked away once more; she got an allowance for her food and such from distant family, and that was all.

_She'd sit in her room_

_And write wishes of doom_.

Kagome didn't, however, give up her writing. She had at least two dozen notebooks filled with poetry that spoke of death and her betrayal. Her writing was no longer something she took seriously. She could now turn to any page she wanted and look for a wish of death. In all honesty, she felt like she belonged in hell. And, she thought, I deserve to burn. I want to burn eternally and feel the suffering I caused everyone.

_By nobody could she be loved_

_And eventually her thoughts drifted to the below and above._

Kagome soon started thinking about what it would be like if she had died. She even thought of asking Kikyou. It was true that she'd died. She was getting more silicone pumped into those store-bought breasts when her heart stopped for a few moments. But, soon enough, doctors had restarted it, and the surgery continued. Damn it, Kagome thought when she saw the 'tragic' story on the news, why in Kami's name did they have to burst my only happy moment?

_And as she thought, blood became the ink_

_For the purpose of writing every possible think she'd think._

Kagome, after a long period of time in which her friends had forgotten about her, had started to look for ways, beside poetry, to let out her emotions. With no other outlet that didn't involve being around other people, she decided to start cutting herself. To her surprise, it felt good. She didn't feel pain from the experience, only pleasure. When she felt sane enough to understand it, she supposed that Kikyou's torment had made her a true masochist at heart. Soon her entire body, or rather, body that she could reach comfortably was covered in little nicks.

_So one day she found that the end was near,_

_And thought it best to plunge without fear._

After a small amount of time, Kagome stopped cutting. What was the point in letting Kikyou have her victory? Kagome wasn't giving in so easily. She thought this, her will to live growing stronger until she saw the news the next Wednesday night. Inuyasha and Kikyou had gotten married. The only reason it was announced was because both of their fathers were multi-millionaires. Kagome was devastated. Her entire world, her every last hope, wish, and desire now lay like shattered glass before her very eyes.

_Her mother, her fathers, and the others all_

_Had some part in the fatal fall._

Not knowing what else to do, she slowly walked into the bathroom and ran the water to get a lukewarm bath going. She walked back out and sat on the bed, trying not to cry. If her heart had not been broken before this, then by now it was surely just as shattered as her soul had been so long ago. She was slowly giving up the will to live. What reason had she now? Kikyou had won; why not just tell the whole damn world that she, Kagome Higurashi, was too much of a wimp to live out her betrayal, devastation and hate?

_Because nobody saw her ever as 'cool'_

_She ended it by letting the blood pool._

Kagome stopped the running water and texted each of her friends a message that held her address, name -just in case they'd forgotten their once-friend-, and the words 'HELP ME'. She then walked back to the bathroom, slid off her pajamas, and stepped into the tub, grabbing a razor off of the counter. Slowly she raised a wrist and slashed across it before lowering it into the water. She smiled at the pink tinge. It was going to be over soon. Then the other wrist followed, but that time she'd hit a vein. Her last smile was that of twisted happiness, her stoic look sliding back on after she dipped the flowing crimson back into the pink water. She was now playing the waiting game. She'd be gone soon, letting her friends know how powerfully they'd hurt her. The masochist turned sadist, she thought with a small amount of benevolence before fading into her eternal slumber.

By the time Inuyasha, Miroku, Sango, Shippo, and Kouga got to Kagome's apartment and looked around, she'd long since been dead. Her friends slowly walked into the bathroom, and looked at Kagome, her alabaster skin set in contrast with the crimson water that filled the tub. IT hit them hard; they'd had hand in this, all of them. Sango ushered her friends away from the body. She was sobbing as she dressed Kagome in a pale blue gown, one that Kagome had bought for her funeral. She carried the limp body bridal style, going to the funeral home with tears in her eyes. They were paying last respects to a late friend that could have lived. They were praying for her happiness now. And each one know, somehow, that it was they who would rot in hell.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Well? Feedback is nice, flames will be used to make my room warmer (It's freezing in Indiana during the winter!)! To everyone who wants the poem separate; No. The story, as my beta and I have agreed, is not the same without it. Look for me soon; my Muse is back! (Apollo be praised!) Until next time.

TDF


End file.
